


But Not For Love

by tielan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Backstory, Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 14:08:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5130476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love and loss and Maria Hill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But Not For Love

**Author's Note:**

> My prompt was " _grief is the price we pay for love_ ".
> 
> So many ways to take this, so little time! Because it's Maria Hill Week over at Tumblr, I opted to go gen rather than the romantic angst option that presented such possibilities!

__ Men have died from time to time,  
and worms have eaten them,  
but not for love. 

~ Shakespeare, _As You Like It_ , Act IV ~

She goes to her father’s funeral because it’s expected, nothing more.

She takes leave, informs her SO, clears her desk. The mission in Addis Ababa is passed to the next available agent with suitable skills, and Maria packs her suit, boards her flight, and lands in Chicago with three hours to spare.

She stands with Anna and the kids as Father Anton speaks the eulogy, and neither flinches nor laughs at the lies, lies, lies.

_A good man. A hard worker. A father who wanted the best for his children._

Her cheekbone aches in memory, speaking ill of the dead.

* * *

Maria’s step hitches when she sees the woman sitting on the bench, her elbows resting on her knees, staring off into space.

Melinda barely glances up in acknowledgement of Maria’s presence. And Coulson must have been really desperate. Maria’s never been much good at emoting anyway; she never had to be with Melinda.

“Hey.” She sits down on the bench. “I hear it was a day.”

Silence.

“I was in Yemen when Coulson called. We got Mauda, with proof.”

Silence.

Maria sighs. “And I’ll just shut up, then.”

Melinda gives her a look.

They sit side by side, without words.

* * *

Taking the standing watch over the bridge viewport gives her space.

Space to breathe. Space to think. And, importantly, space between her fist and the pretty faces of Stark and Rogers, which she’d otherwise be tempted to un-pretty to the best of her ability.

Phil is dead. He died still believing in superheroes; believing the world needed the Avengers.

Anger balls in her belly, a hot curl of frustration, bright as the burning heart of a sun; rage that could make a thousand Hulks.

Phil’s beloved Avengers put pride and politics ahead of duty and responsibility.

This is the price.

* * *

Maria feels as though the solid ground beneath her has crumbled, leaving her at the edge of an uncertain, unnavigable precipice.

Fury was a bastard. No question about that. But he was a bastard who knew when to hold ‘em, when to fold ‘em, and if he was going to stab you, it would be in the front. Maria respected him.

And if she doesn’t breathe, maybe the lump in her throat won’t swallow her words and make a mealy-mouthed liar out of her.

Then she’s asked to sign off on the medical procedures.

And sees the last drug administered.

* * *

_Don’t get attached. Don’t make more of it. Don’t think you’re special._

The mantra pounds through her head with every step out of the Triskelion, her heartbeat a steady accusation in her breast. Seven billion people against Steve Rogers? She’s already made that choice once before in a tunnel in New Mexico, staring down blue-tinged madness in Clint Barton’s gaze.

As the helicarriers fall, modern Hindenburgs sending dictators’ dreams up in smoke and flame, she contemplates walking away – just vanishing into obscurity and leaving S.H.I.E.L.D and HYDRA to fight it out.

She wants to.

But that’s not who Maria is.


End file.
